Page 31 of A Lady of Means
“That’s it, then?Just the pink-” Letitia cut in.
“And we promenade!But it’s always in pink,” Carina supplied.
“And our dear Moria is in this washed-out shade of yellow,” Lady Gretchen added.
Llewyn’s countenance was soft and understanding, like he could see through Moria.He looked to the jasmine on the mantelpiece and then back to his hands folded in his lap.
“Is the priest here to deliver your last rites or something?”Lady Gretchen said, looking at Llewyn suspiciously, but addressing Moria.
“Wouldn’t mind that being the last face I see,” Carina said in a conspiratorial whisper linking an arm with Moria’s.
Moria sniffed a laugh.“Reverend, I’m afraid you’ll have to forgive my friends.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, my lady,” he replied, but Moria could see the apples of his cheeks starting to redden as he brought a teacup to his lips.
“I’m sure the Lord requires Lady Moria’s supplication on other fronts, perhaps,” Letitia said, with an obsequious smile that Moria knew meant she had some explaining to do later.
“That is one of my favorite subjects to discuss: the grace of our Lord for every sinner, regardless of origin or sex,” as the Vicar sipped his tea, Moria could see the edges of Letitia’s fine-boned face soften like that had been exactly what she needed to hear.
“He’d be the onlyLordwho did, it isn’t a common experience for a woman to be on the receiving end of any grace at all,” it was Lady Gretchen, surprisingly, who made such a profound pronouncement.When Moria looked at her, she saw another layer to a friend she might have misjudged as somewhat shallow.
“Hear, hear,” said Letitia, holding her teacup in mock salute in a moment of unlikely camaraderie.
“‘She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future.’Proverbs 31: 25.That’s God’s blessing for women who count him as a friend,” Llewyn offered, looking at each of the women at the table.
“Why, you’ve almost described our dear Lady Moria perfectly,” Carina said, placing an arm on Moria’s shoulder.
Moria sucked in a breath.“That’s very kind of you, Carina.It wasn’t always the case, I assure you.”
“Regardless of our pasts,” Llewyn said, holding Moria’s eyes.“We needn’t fear what’s ahead.”
ChapterTwelve
Battle strategy meeting.Friday.My brother’s club.Burgundy room.
X,
* * *
“You came.”
Devyn had almost expected she wouldn’t show.It had been her invitation, the first contact with her since the ball a few evenings prior: a torn piece of paper slipped into his hand by her lady’s maid as he’d left his brother’s house.
But now she looked good enough to devour in a purple dress and he was glad that he’d rearranged his schedule at her behest.He counted himself among a number of men who weren’t quite sure what they wouldn’t do for her, but somehow he was the one she’d crossed a full ballroom to get to and trusted with her carefully guarded secrets.
“I invited you,” she replied.
There was a biting edge to her voice.Icy blue flecks and golden embers floating in her eyes contrasted with the delectable sweetness of her curves poured into that purple dress.He liked her in purple.Wasn’t purple the color of queens?
The taut set of her shoulders and the tilt of her jaw made him want to take her into his arms and show her all the ways he could melt away the ice in her veins.
He took her hand and led her into the meeting room.There were trays of food spread before them on a table, a fire in the hearth.He took in her hooded cloak, the fact that she was unaccompanied.He could hear the proprietary voice of his father, a general, inside his head telling him he was a damn fool and a reckless one at that.
“You came without a chaperone,” he said, trailing a finger down one arm of her cloak.
She gave a small laugh that almost made him forget his own name.“I’m good at diversion.”
He was well versed in that fact.Every thought he’d had since meeting her outside a coaching inn had been diverted in her direction.“You don’t have to be.”
